There Is A Kind Of Love Called Brotherhood

Youth has always been a fleeting dream, and all moments will slip away silently through our fingers. Yet it is those awkward heartbeats, the shy stirrings of affection, the persistent longing, the repressed impulses, the fervent confessions, the naive sense of loss, and the reckless abandon of youth that become the markers of our adolescence. Who once said that most of our time in adulthood is spent reminiscing about our youthful memories

They all loved, and they were all loved, yet their love was filled with pain. No one taught them how to grow, and the profound sense of loss and frustration that permeated their youthful years would ultimately be their teacher. In those scattered and unclassifiable experiences of growth, are she and he still brothers? From the moment they parted ways, are they still brothers? Are they still the protagonists of that youthful story? From the moment they parted ways, are they still brothers? Are they still the protagonists of that youthful story?

That memorial firework for youth ultimately failed to burn completely, can she and he look back without the need to regret this term?